


empty glass

by mthslh



Category: The Americans (TV 2013)
Genre: Drunk Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slurs, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mthslh/pseuds/mthslh
Summary: Oleg and Arkady get drunk together.
Relationships: Oleg Burov & Arkady Zotov, Oleg Burov/Arkady Zotov
Kudos: 7





	empty glass

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, the first fic for this ship! I've had writer's block recently, so when inspiration hit I just had to write this. The title is from Pete Townshend's 1980 album of the same name- which also includes Rough Boys! It's one of my favorites, so I had to include it. I encourage you to give the whole album a spin.  
> I'd assume they would speak Russian, so the words in italics are English.  
> As in the tags, both characters are very into it, but they are drunk and consent is not explicit.

The stopper of the decanter clinks against the saucer. Arkady, tie slightly askew, pours half of the remainder into his own glass, and the other half into Oleg's.

It's a power move. Maybe not an intentional one, but it scares Oleg. Arkady's a terribly composed man, even when intoxicated, and Oleg isn't. He's a _blabbermouth,_ as an American might say, and his confidence usually covers it up, but there are a handful of things he can't afford to share.

Especially not with Arkady.

Arkady leans back in his chair, raising his glass slightly before tipping it back. Oleg raises his glass in return, but then sets it down.

"Oleg Igorevich, you're going to waste good alcohol like that?"

“I’m too drunk as it is.”

An eyebrow raise. “You’re either more of a spoiled brat than I thought... or you're hiding something.”

“Aren’t we all, Arkady Ivanovich?”

He shakes his head. “Not like that. Not like you.”

“Surely I don’t know everything about you.”

Arkady is agitated, his voice raised, moving his whole body across the desk to look in Oleg’s eyes. “You know everything that matters, Oleg. I keep work secrets for everyone in this damn place, and I know whatever’s bothering you isn’t work.”

“Not your business, Arkady. Ivanovich.” He’s not sure whether to speak as casually as he’s being spoken to, leaving him in an awkward middle ground.

“It is my business when it distracts you from your work. Every minute you spend staring into space is a minute taken from the cause.” His face softens. “I’m worried about you. You're different now that Nina Sergeevna is gone.”

“You want me to tell you I’m a _faggot?_ That’s what you want?”

He blinks, eyes wide. “What?”

“ _Faggot._ Pidoras. I sleep with men, Arkady.”

"No, I know, but I didn't think—“

“Is that good enough? You’ve gotten me drunk, you’ve gotten my deepest secret. If I don’t leave, it’ll get worse, so if you don’t mind, Arkady Ivanovich, I will see myself out.”

“Get worse?” They’re standing eye-to-eye now, next to the desk. Oleg can't read the emotion in Arkady's eyes, but he doesn't like it.

He turns to leave, but Arkady grabs his left wrist, looking at him with his brow furrowed.

The Rezident has a sheen of sweat on his brow, and his high cheekbones have become tinted pink from the alcohol. He'd taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves even before he invited Oleg into his office, but he refused to take off his tie, and he doesn't seem to realize that it's no longer in its place.

Before his mind fully registers the consequences, Oleg reaches over with his right hand and moves Arkady's tie so it's back in place.

Arkady clasps his other hand over Oleg's.

"If I'm wrong, you leave now and this never happened."

If he were sober, it'd be a no-brainer. He'd say something about "inappropriate work relationships" and go home and use the image of Arkady grasping both of his hands in his fantasies for the next year or so.

Then again, if he were sober, Arkady wouldn't know.

He leans forward and presses their lips together.

Arkady cups Oleg's face in his hands, taking him by surprise. He braces himself against the desk as Arkady pushes him forward hungrily. Oleg had been testing the waters, ready to bolt, but Arkady dove right in, his mind straight but his inhibitions lowered.

Their teeth click, and Oleg jumps, making Arkady pull back. Feeling light-headed, Oleg drinks in Arkady's face. His pupils are blown wide and his lips are reddened.

Oleg wonders what Arkady's seeing.

"We're okay?" Arkady asks gently.

They're much, much more than okay, but rather than expressing that, Oleg simply nods and reaches down to undo Arkady's belt.

His mind whirls as he undoes the button of Arkady's trousers, pushes them down, and sinks to his knees.

"Oleg, you don't have to-"

"I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to, Arkady."

He brushes his lips over Arkady's half-hard cock, and the other man inhales sharply. He takes Arkady gently in his mouth, cheeks hollowed. As Arkady hardens, Oleg uses his hands, too, engulfing him in wet heat. He hasn't done this much before, but the experience isn't new to him.

Arkady laces his fingers through Oleg's hair. As stoic as he usually is, it surprises Oleg that he's making any noise at all, but he's sighing and clearly swallowing moans. Oleg takes it as a challenge, taking Arkady even further in his mouth. He comes awfully close to gagging, but it's worth it to hear Arkady gasp and curse loudly.

"God, you'll be the death of me," Arkady breathes.

He combs Oleg's hair with his fingers, a more pleasant sensation than pulling. Oleg's jaw is tiring, but he focuses on Arkady's heady scent and stuttered breathing. He's generally a confident, composed fellow, and seeing him like this is pleasurable in more than one way.

He hums softly around Arkady's cock, and Arkady shudders. "Oleg, I'm going to-"

Oleg looks up, seeing Arkady's head thrown back, neck flushed a deep red. He cries out and comes, Oleg keeping his mouth wrapped around him (mostly to avoid getting come on the Rezidentura floor.) Oleg stands up, as dignified as a man who just got done sucking cock can be.

He expected Arkady to want him to see himself out, but instead, Arkady kisses him again, slow and sweet. He slips a hand into Oleg's trousers, slowly jerking him off. He was already achingly hard, and it's not long before he comes, too, the world around him dissolving into white noise for a moment as he succumbs to the pleasure.

Gingerly, Arkady pulls his pants up and buckles his belt, neglecting to tuck his shirt in, and puts his jacket on. Oleg is in much better shape, just needing to button his pants, but he hates to imagine what his face looks like. He feels a bit guilty, but not regretful.

Arkady glances at him, smooths his shirt, and opens the door. "After you," he says, beckoning Oleg out.

They walk through the halls of the building together at a brisk stride, everyone else packed up and gone. They reach the door together, and Oleg pauses hesitantly, seeing his reflection in the glass. Anyone could tell he'd just had sex from a mile away, his hair mussed and his lips swollen.

"Goodnight, Oleg Igorevich," he says in English. "I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning." He stands for a second, and then gently kisses Oleg's cheek and pushes the doors open to leave.

Oleg isn't sure what to think, so he decides not to. He waits for Arkady to be gone and then exits the building himself, drowning his racing thoughts out with a CD all the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave feedback! I love to hear from people : )


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